


Okay

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Crying, Emotions, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, NSFW, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scars, everyone's sad lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4900654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The inquisitor finally works up the courage to talk to Cullen. Nothing goes as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck this lmao

"Uh...C-cullen, yeah?"  
The elf slid onto the bench across from Cullen, a steaming clay mug in one hand.   
"Mhm?" The Commander raised his eyes from the report he'd been scratching away at. "Do you need anything, Herald?"  
Harel took a nervous sip from the mug, leaving his lips stained with beads of spiced wine. "A-actually, I wanted to ask you something, Commander.."   
Cullen bit back a sigh.   
"You don't need to call me commander," he set aside the report. "Just Cullen is fine." Maker, the elf was even more awkward than he was.   
"A-alright." Harel Lavellan gave an awkward cough. "So you were in Kirkwall, y-yeah? You're a Templar- well, ex-templar- and I'm an, uh...elvhen apostate, right?" He took another gulp of wine. "I...I thought we should talk about it, I mean i-if we're to work together?" Harel stammered, cheeks turning pink.   
Was the elf blushing? Cullen leaned forward slightly, wondering if he should try to calm down the short elf. He finally settled for offering a gentle smile he prayed looked genuine.   
"We can discuss it if you wish, Herald. You needn't worry- you will see no hatred from me."  
Lavellan took a deep breath. "Thank you, Commander. I mean Cullen. I'm sorry, I'm not used to being important enough to use names," he finally responded.   
Cullen tipped his head slightly. "I can understand that," he assented. "You'll get used to it, soon enough."  
He watched Harel wrap his hands around his mug, thin fingers almost the same shade as the reddish clay. The elf was oddly attractive, Cullen had to admit. Though short and awkward, with hair as pale and wild as plains-grasses, the Lavellan did have some sort of charm. Really observing the elf for the first time since they'd officially met at the chantry, he was surprised to notice Harel's eyes were a vibrant yellow-green. Cullen paused, trying to name the color. He was sure he had the name on the tip of his tongue, but it seemed to elude him...he rubbed his temples, trying to refocus on the conversation-if one could even call it that.   
"Have you, uh, slept lately?" Harel had noticed the motion, and his eyes flicked to the stack of papers Cullen had left on the inn's table.   
"I've been busy," the ex-templar shrugged.   
The elf reached out to pull the papers towards himself, deftly flicking through the pages. "I could finish these for you, if you like." His voice still quivered, but the wine seemed to have helped his nerves a bit. "You l-look like you could use some rest." He froze, a look of distress spreading back across his face. "I-i'm s-sorry, that was very rude of me!!!..I meant no insult!" He hid his face in his hands.  
Cullen laughed, reaching out a hand to rest on Harel's shoulder. "None taken." He waited for the elf to finish his drink and began to gather his things, humming softly. "You are right, though- I could use a break." The Commander stood up slowly. "And you wished to talk, yes? Maybe you would care to join me outside?"  
The evening outside was cool and clear, stars spattering the sky above Haven.  
"I've always loved nights like this," Cullen remarked as they walked. "It feels like something important is about to happen."   
They were headed towards the quarters where he had been given a room, speaking quietly. The elf had not been present in Kirkwall during the uprising itself, but was no stranger to the local Chantry and Circle. The pair traded stories, and the ex-templar felt a pang of guilt as Harel recounted his experiences.   
"I suppose ignorance is no excuse in my case," Cullen admitted as he unlocked the door to his room, "but I'd never really considered how terrible the Circle's treatment of mages could be." He glanced back at the Herald. "I'm really sorry you had to go through that."   
"Thank you, Cullen." The elf offered him a wide smile, and Cullen felt his heart jump. So quiet and nervous, this seemed to be the first time he had seen Harel smile since they had met after the conclave- and the effect was stunning. The elf's face lit up, the remains of old dalish tattoos (only what the chantry had been unable to remove, he'd explained) curling into a pattern that finally seemed to look right, to look happy. Harel's eyes crinkled around the corners, and his pink-tipped ears seemed to raise slightly. The commander was reminded briefly of a mabari, though the elf was more catlike than anything.   
The door creaked open and Cullen let himself in, but his companion hesitated.   
"Is this really alright?" He scuffed at the doorstep with his foot. "I would not wish to be an invasion upon your privacy, Commander."  
Cullen gripped the elf's shoulder and gently tugged him inside. "I invited you here, Harel. You don't have to worry about this," he reassured. "And you don't have to use any titles- we are to be friends, after all!"  
\--  
"...I really suppose I should go now, yes?" Harel rubbed his neck, once again stiff and awkward. The mark on his hand pulsed dimly, keeping time with the elf's quick heartbeat.  
"You don't have to," Cullen began to unbutton his coat. "Unless you want to, I mean," he dropped the garment onto a nearby chair. "We can keep talking if you feel like it...I should have a bottle of wine around here somewhere..." he turned just as Harel pulled the door closed behind them. /Shit./  
"Are you...alright?" Cullen froze. The elf was leaning back against the rough surface, face flushed red even in the halflight and arms wrapped tight around his own chest. "Uh... .." he stammered. "...I've had a bit much to drink today already, and I have work to...I-i should probably go." Cullen glanced up uncertainly to meet Harel's eyes. The elf grunted awkwardly and reached for the door handle-but, touched by a sudden impulse, Cullen grabbed his arm. "Cullen-?"  
The ex-templar was equally surprised. "Look," he rushed, praying the lack of light would hide his blush, "this is already awkward enough, and we're alone and nobody has to know and it won't make any difference- b-but we'll both feel much better and it doesn't even have to mean anything, I just want things to stop being so weird between us-" he paused, out of breath. "D-damn it. I can't believe I just said that," he panicked, "What is wrong with me today? I keep messing up, I just-" "Mmhph." The elf's mouth crushed into his, teeth scraping against Cullen's soft lips. The kiss was sloppy but definite, and, strangely enough, comfortingly solid. He leaned into it, nipping softly at the elf, deepening the contact. Harel's arms extended slightly, pulling Cullen into a tight embrace. They pressed together, nuzzling at each other, a grip so tight and desperate and filled with need it seemed able to go on forever.   
Finally, they separated enough to be able to speak.   
"It's not us, Cullen," Harel whispered, head resting on the larger man's chest. "We didn't make this mess, yeah? It's not your fault that you ended up here, ended up like this."  
-"But..it is!" the ex-templar protested, instinctively pulling away. "Do you know the things I've done? The things I've allowed to happen, serving under Meredith?" his voice cracked. "When I realised you... you did nothing to deserve the things that were done to you, the things / did to you- I've been wrong, spent so much of my life being wrong- and you know what I did when I realised? I felt sorry for myself!" he broke off into a sob, all composure and dignity gone. The apostate was quiet for a time, letting Cullen cry. Eventually he spoke, voice hoarse. "That's.. not so bad, you know?" He gave a tired laugh. "I've met people much worse than you, Commander. And the biggest difference? They never regretted what they'd done." Harel guided Cullen back into a kiss. "Anyway- if you want, we can work through this," he offered. "Talk about the Circle. The rebellion. The templars. I can't promise easy," the elf paused. "But I can promise patient. We can make this whole damn mess better. Better for both of us."  
Cullen took a deep breath. "Y-yeah. I can do that." He rubbed an arm across his face, clearing the red from around his eyes. "Talking sounds like a good idea..." he trailed off, realising he was pressed full-body into Harel, leaning heavily against the oaken door. "Should I move away?" Cullen asked, blushing.   
"Don't," he hummed in reply. "We can save the talking for later, if you'd like."  
Cullen's breath caught. Was he-the blasted Herald- offering to-? "Uh..." he stammered. They /had/ just kissed after all, but this was something else entirely...  
"I won't force myself on you, of course," Harel reassured. "This is your choice, Cullen." He laughed softly. "I'm sorry, this was too sudden of me. We've hardly known each other long, and I don't even know if you would be w-with..."  
"With another man?" Cullen cupped the elf's face gently. "I...I don't know yet. But with you? I would. I would be with you, Harel." He gave a slow, experimental roll of his hips against the elf's warmth. "Though...people will talk..."  
Harel's breath hitched as he shrugged off his coat, fingers scrabbling at the buckles. "Let them-"  
Cullen could feel the elf through the layers of fabric that separated them, already practically hard. "Let them talk."   
/How long has he wanted, no,《needed》this?/ Cullen wondered, moving to remove his shirt. He'd kept himself distant from Harel, half wary of his magic and half afraid to scare the tiny elf. He, however, had moved quickly- Cullen was surprised the   
Herald had asked so soon. It was voicing something he himself had wanted since they had first met, and Cullen felt hope rising in his chest. /Has he been thinking about me too?/ He reached out to unbutton Harel's shirt and claimed his lips with a growl, tasting warmth and arousal. They both needed this, he realised- consequences be damned. Maker knows what would happen if Cassandra found out, but they would worry about that later. For now- the bed creaked as it took their collective weight, and Cullen thanked the Maker Harel was so small. The piece of furniture was barely suited for one person to sleep in, much less two.   
"Have you..." Harel kicked off his boots, "done this before?"   
He gave an assentive nod. "A few times..." he trailed off, trying to avoid the subject. Harel must have understood, because he didn't pry. Instead he straddled Cullen, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his neck. "So," he continued, fingers playing at the knots that laced Cullen's trousers closed, "what do you want?"  
"Huh?" Cullen was stumped. "What do you mean?"  
"You're saying no one ever asks you that?" Harel paused.   
Cullen shook his head.  
"It's usually other people telling me what to do," he replied. "Or...well, it doesn't matter."   
"Oh." Harel was quiet for a moment. "I'll ask you before I do anything, okay? And you tell me if you'd have me stop." For the rapid cycle of confidence and worry the elf had shown so far, now he was quiet and gentle.   
Cullen laughed hoarsely. "I'm not made of glass," he reassured. "You don't need to be so careful."   
"I know," Harel rested a scarred hand on Cullen's chest. "But...I want this to be for you. I want to show you that you don't have to be afraid." A smile tugged at his lips. "Plus, I enjoy it like this."   
"I think I understand," Cullen nodded. 'But we can figure that out later." He grinned, determined to completely break the solemn mood. "Talk-later. Now-us."

Harel sat back, letting Cullen stare at his half-naked form. The elf was small but muscular, with soft dark skin and silky hair. Pale scars stretched across his body- uneven, jagged ones across his face, long and shallow cuts on his arms and back. A pair of thick scars snaked across his chest, but somehow they only made Harel seem more beautiful to him.   
"I can really...do whatever I want?" Cullen's breath caught at the offer.   
"Anything," Harel grinned. "Anything you want to."  
"I want..." Cullen searched for the right words. They seemed so rough and out of place here, but he was at a loss. "I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you and fuck your mouth, I want you on your knees, I want you screaming my name so loud they hear it in the blasted Fade." He stopped. "I'm sorry, that was...really dirty."   
"Don't apologise." Harel rutted against him, and Cullen almost gasped at the elf's hardness pressed against his own. "That was beautiful, Commander."   
"I can do more than talk," he promised, trying to keep his breath steady. There was something about the way Harel said 《Commander》 that made arousal pool in the pit of his stomach, that made him want to flip the elf over and make him call him that again and again. He resisted, instead uncapping the small bottle of oil Harel had handed him, only briefly wondering where he'd gotten it from.  
"Oh?" The elf teased. "I haven't seen much of that so far..."  
"You will," Cullen growled, pulling Harel into his lap. "Now spread your legs."  
He did so easily, first tugging off his trousers and smallclothes in a simple motion. Oil splashed his stomach and the sheets between them as Cullen tried to slick his fingers with it, prompting his laughter when Harel squeaked in surprise at the cold liquid.  
"May I?" Cullen pressed a finger against his opening. "Just do it alrea-" his voice broke off into a moan as the finger entered him roughly. He shifted as Cullen began to thrust, angling his hips as to allow a second finger. "C'mon, I can take more than that!"   
Cullen bit his lip. He wanted this desperately- it was all he could do to stop himself from skipping the fingers altogether- but that wouldn't end well for anyone (and was hardly realistic). "You're not ready, it's going to hurt," he cautioned, quickening his thrusts. He was still wearing his trousers, and they pressed uncomfortably against the hardness of his erection.   
"I'll live," replied Harel. It would have sounded more convincing if the Herald's voice hadn't been shaking with need, but Cullen gave in. "Alright," he relented eventually. "One more finger. Will that be fine?"   
Harel rolled his hips with a whine, unable to catch any friction while positioned on his back. "Hurry up-nngh!" He eagerly took the second finger, up to the knuckle, and Cullen thought he could come just like this- watching the elf fuck himself open for him. That he could have more than this was such an incredible thought-he had been offered everything and could take as much as he wished, and he could barely believe it. "You're sure about this? About us?"   
Harel gave a strained nod. He needed more than just two fingers pressed cautiously inside him- he would take anything, obey any command, just /please/ more than Cullen's slow, uncertain movements.   
"I'm completely sure. But please tell me now if we're going to sit like this all night, okay? You're being much too gentle, Commander."  
There it was again. /Commander/. Cullen's breath hitched as he finally took the hint. /Ohh. So that's what he wants. Rough and fast and almost painful, bent over and claimed and marked-/ He felt his anxiety fade, replaced by a hungry need. "Alright then," he added a third finger, " I'll stop being gentle. Is that what you want? To take my fingers and my cock? You want me to fuck you open 'til my come spills down your legs and you can't taste anything but me for a week?"   
Harel's cock twitched and he threw back his head, face flushed. "Yes," he gasped. "I want t-that. I want you inside me, I want you to use me and fuck me a-and fill me with come," his voice became a hiss as he took a fourth finger, body shaking in time to Cullen's rythmic thrusts.  
"I'll never use anyone, ever again," Cullen yanked down his trousers, leaving them stained with oil, "but I will take what you offer me. I will take all you allow me to." He pulled out his fingers with a wet pop, spilling oil down the elf's quivering thighs.   
"Spread yourself."   
Harel obeyed with a whine, lifting his legs to rest them on Cullen's broad shoulders.   
He pushed down his smallclothes, letting his length lie thick and heavy between his thighs. The mage gave a moan at the sight. "Maker, you're /huge/!"   
Cullen slicked himself generously in oil, gasping softly at the touch of his own fingers. "Do you...still want to do this?" Harel had sounded almost nervous, and Cullen was afraid to hurt him.   
"Y-yes," the elf whined, chest heaving. "Yes yes /please/ C-cullen I need you inside me now, please-!" He was practically incoherent with want, dripping precome and oil, open and pleading...Cullen rested the head of his cock against Harel's entrance, then pushed in with a moan.  
He cried out sharply, stretched around Cullen's thick length. He'd barely taken the first inch, but the other man was bigger than he'd expected.   
"Is...this okay?" Cullen gasped. He longed to keep going, to sheathe himself in the slick, hot tightness, but he could stop if the elf needed it.   
"Perfect," Harel rolled his hips again, rocking over Cullen's cock, taking the thick, hard length inch by inch. Cullen could hardly imagine how it would fit, Harel had been so tight around just his fingers... "That's right," he breathed. "Take my cock, take -fuck- all of it..." he rocked forward, pressing further into him with a filthy groan. The elf heaved, taking the final inches with a cry, his hips jerking as he fucked himself even wider open. Cullen groaned appreciatively in response and began to move as well, thrusting slowly into the tight heat, whispering praise against Harel's skin. The mark on the Herald's arm pulsed in time to their rocking thrusts, and the two men filled the room with whimpers and moans.   
"You're..." Cullen gasped, "You're so beautiful. So perfect. I can't believe this is real, you here...with me..."  
He came first, crying out the Herald's name as his come spilled inside the elf, the wave of pleasure turning his thrusts shallow and uneven. "Maker...nhh-yes, yes, yes-" Harel finished soon after, coating Cullen's stomach in thick, warm liquid. They lay still for a time, feeling seed and oil pool between them, limbs tangled and breath ragged. Safe. Together.   
Finally Cullen moved with a stuttering gasp, sticky liquid spilling down their thighs and soaking the sheets as he pulled out with a wet sound. "I..." he was silent for a moment, before suddenly turning away. A wave of guilt washed over him, and the ex-templar doubled over with a groan. "I'm sorry. Shit, I'm sorry Harel, I'm really sorry, I-"   
"What happened?" The elf sat up and leaned towards him, eyes filled with worry. "What's wrong, Cullen?"  
The man fidgeted nervously. "I'm really sorry, really, I'm sorry-"   
"It's alright," Harel said firmly, wrapping his arms around him. "You're safe. You can tell me what happened."  
Cullen hid his face in his hands. "I...I don't even really know, yeah? It's all fine until- until I do something like this, until I feel safe and happy and-" his voice cracked. "Until I feel like someone cares about me...then I feel guilty, I feel so damn terrible, like I should just die! I mean maybe it's the lyrium, maybe it's something else, I know I deserve it all, I deserve it, it's just that-" for the second time that night, Cullen broke down. He was unable to finish, words reduced to hiccuping sobs.   
"It's.." Harel pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Cullen, it's okay. We'll figure this out, yeah? We'll make things better."   
The warrior looked up at him, eyes red and puffy. "R-really?"  
"Of course," the mage grinned. "I love you, after all. I really do care...and you really are safe with me."


End file.
